


it’s a pleasure to burn for you

by ShatterinSeconds



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Canon Compliant, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Fluff, Gay Keith (Voltron), Japanese Keith (Voltron), M/M, Pining Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-08 06:44:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15925034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShatterinSeconds/pseuds/ShatterinSeconds
Summary: “Are you an alien because your body is out of this world?” Lance recites his most used pickup line as he snaps a set of finger guns in Keith’s direction. Every millisecond without an answer, Lance can feel his confidence evaporating.Keith blinks, finger acting as a bookmark as he allows the book to fall closed. “Excuse me?”(or Lance and Keith get together at the Garrison)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Most of this was written before season 6 and season 7 which is why it doesn't match canon, which means in this AU the Garrison is like a college/university. So yeah this has been a wip for a while, but since s7 came out with all that good Garrison content, it really motivated me to finish this!
> 
> Hope you enjoy:)

“Who’s that guy over there?” Lance vaguely gestures to a boy his age sitting alone at a cafeteria table, a worn book in his hand as he methodically flips the yellowing pages every minute or so. From this distance, it’s too far away to see the title, having faded to a dull red, and whatever picture graced the cover has almost been completely worn away. There’s a white stripe, the length of a finger, streaking across the front, as if the boy who holds the book has a habit of rubbing that space over and over again--a nervous tick maybe.

It’s only Lance’s first month at the Garrison--he’s still getting used to the new surroundings and routines and people--but he had promised himself that he wouldn’t be distracted by pretty people like he was back in high school. He has never broken a promise this quickly before.

He hopes the guy is worth it. But they almost never are.

“I think that’s Keith?” Hunk says, arching an eyebrow with uncertainty. “He’s in one of my classes but he doesn’t talk at all besides during attendance. I heard he got in here on his flying skills alone, full scholarship. Apparently he’s studying under Lieutenant Shirogane or something.”

“Oh.” Though Lance is grateful for Hunk’s gossip, his heart sinks. The boy is literally too far ahead for Lance to properly catch up; it’s almost not even possible to be on his radar at this point--why would someone as amazing as Keith want to go out with someone who can barely make cargo pilot status? His shoulders slump, chin resting in the palm of his hand as he continues to stare at Keith.

“Oh? Ooooh.” Realization quickly dawns on Hunk’s face. Smirking, he leans closer to Lance. “Go for it, buddy.”

Lance jerks back, cheeks burning red with embarrassment as he waves his hands frantically. “Pfft, no, that’s not what I meant. He just has dumb hair so I was curious what his deal was.”

“Uh huh. I’ve met your ‘I have a crush’ face before. There’s no fooling me.”  Hunk’s large hands land on Lance’s shoulders, tightly squeezing. “Go. For. It.”   

Despite his attempts, Lance’s gaze reluctantly swings over to Keith’s direction again, watching his lips mouth the words he reads. A free hand casually fiddles with the plastic fork on his tray, and his leg bounces as if he is nervous despite him being utterly alone. Lance catalogues every new detail he discovers about Keith--his mental list of ‘why do I have a crush on this person’ quickly expands with each passing second. When he watches Keith brush his too long bangs away from his eyes, revealing his entire face for a mere minute before they flop back into his face, Lance decides that maybe he should take Hunk’s advice.

His best friend is rarely wrong after all.  

Even with all the noise in the cafeteria, all Lance can hear is his thumping heart, more wild than usual, and his Garrison issued boots slapping against the tile. He wipes his sweaty palms on his pants as he confidently marches closer to Keith’s table.

“Are you an alien because your body is out of this world?” Lance recites his most used pickup line as he snaps a set of finger guns in Keith’s direction. He stops a few inches in front of the boy, and every millisecond without an answer, Lance can feel his confidence evaporating. A wobbly smile graces his features despite this.

Keith blinks, finger acting as a bookmark as he allows the book to fall closed. At least Lance has captured Keith’s attention--and thank God the table is empty; he doesn’t need an audience for this disaster. “Excuse me?”

“I.. uh.. I was complimenting you,” Lance fumbles for his words as he rubs the back of his neck. Awkwardness begins to seep into the air, and suddenly Lance feels naked standing in front of this boy.

“Don’t be stupid; I’m not an alien,” Keith deadpans, utterly confused. Inky black locks hide his eyes from view, and Lance mourns the loss of witnessing their gorgeous color in full.

“You could be, never say never.”

Cocking his head, Keith stares. “I  _highly_ doubt it.” Yet there’s a strange hitch to his voice as if he is actually considering the possibility.  _This guy is ridiculous_ , Lance instantly decides,  _but in an adorable way._

He places a hand on the table as he relaxes, another remark on his tongue as he wildly smirks. “It would explain the terrible choice in a haircut.”

“Really?” Absentmindedly, Keith lifts his free hand to the back of his hair, locks curling over his pale fingers, as he tries to smooth the untameable mess. “I mean, I did it myself…”

“Oh my God, that explains so much.”

Keith’s eyes narrow as calculations swim through his eyes as if he’s trying to understand all the components to this conversation. “You were flirting with me a second ago… I think…. So what does that say about you?”

“I  _officially_ take it all back,” Lance jokes, lips twisting in a teasing manner.

“Oh, okay.” Keith abruptly stands from the table, eyes suddenly harsh and body taut as he quickly walks away from Lance, book clutched in his grasp.

Lance wants to yell, run to catch up to him, tell him, “that it was a joke, that I’d still like to flirt with you, and dude, you really gotta learn sarcasm,” but someone from another table calls him over. He misses his chance.

* * *

 

The second attempt at talking to the boy goes marginally better than the first. They’re alone, Keith having taken up the second to last spot in the simulator for the night, and Lance idly waits outside, watching as his time slot slowly slips by as Keith continues to ignore that fact that others--well one other person--scheduled their practice time at night too. Finally when the room quiets, the sign blinking green to signal the end of a run, Lance leaps off the floor.

Charging to the simulator’s door, he raps on the metal. “You better not start another one, Kogane. I barely have time for myself now.”

The doors slide open to reveal a slightly adrenaline rushed Keith with mussed hair and flushed cheeks, as if he had just taken a ride on the world’s fastest roller coaster, and knowing how Keith flies, it had probably been very similar.  

“Sorry,” is all Keith says, curtly, brushing by Lance without another word.

“Hey, umm--” His mind becomes a traitor as he is left without anything to say, fumbling like a fool to make sure Keith doesn’t run off before he has a chance to apologize or at least coach him in the art of sarcasm.

Surprisingly, Keith does stop, arms crossed against his chest, foot tapping against the floor, an easily conveyed message of: ‘I don’t want to be here.’

So Lance speaks quickly, wringing his hands in embarrassment as words finally tumble from his mouth. “I’m so sorry. What I said about taking back flirting with you, that’s not what I meant at all. It was a joke, sarcasm. I actually really would like to continue flirting… with you and uh getting to know you better. But I also understand if you never want me to speak to you again. J-just tell me though, so I can move on.”

For once, Keith can no longer control his nonchalance expression, his face morphing into one of surprise before shaking his head. “So what I’m hearing is that you’re just really bad at flirting.”

“Not the point of that, but sure. That was not my finest moment.”

“Alright. I’m not opposed to the idea of you continuing to flirt with me.” Suddenly, his violet-gray eyes drift away from Lance’s face, a light color adorning his pale cheeks. “I’ll admit that it had been… nice to be noticed like that.”

Lance stalks closer with unadulterated surprise written on his face. He pokes Keith in the chest much to the other’s grunts of disbelief. “Are you telling me that  _the_ Keith Kogane has never been asked out before?”

Finally he looks Lance straight in the eyes. “Yes.”

This close, Lance can spot light freckles peppering the bridge of his nose; they’re almost invisible in this lighting, and Lance absentmindedly wonders if they darken under the summer sun…. and if he would ever get to witness that phenomenon. “That has to change.”

“What?”

“I will woo you so hard that you’ll forget what you’ve been missing.” School work and the simulator become a distant memory; this is his new mission now.

“Heh, I’ll be looking forward to that…  _Lance_ ,” Keith says, allowing Lance’s name to roll off his tongue. He doesn’t ever remember telling Keith his name, but he lets that mystery slide because that smirk and tone kill Lance instantly.

* * *

 

They sit in the computer lab, finishing papers they have due for two separate classes. Over the past few weeks, after cressing that initial speed bump Lance had stupidly caused, they have grown closer together--even sharing a few inside jokes that leave Hunk confused during the conversation whenever Keith joins them for lunch.

It’s too early for love, Lance has learned that lesson plenty of times, but he knows he’s reaching a  _strong_ like for Keith at this point. With the subtle glances and secret smiles Keith will often grace him with--whether they’re a few seats away in the same class, passing each other in the hall, or sitting next to each other--Lance hopes that Keith feels the same.   

Lance bangs his head on the keyboard, watching as his essay begins to write itself with a bunch of letters stringed together to make something unintelligible. Though, it’s probably a better read than the introduction he has written.

Keith arches an eyebrow, amused. “You alright there?”

“No,” Lance groans.”My brain doesn’t want to function with English grammar right now. It’s too late for this bullshit.”

“Take a break,” Keith says casually, eyes back on his own screen.

“That’s easy for you to say, since you already  _finished_ your work.” Lance’s jealousy seeps into his words, though this is all his own fault. He did have two weeks to write this essay and now he only has two days.

Keith tries his suggestion again. “You’re not going to get anything done at this rate; you need to take a break.”

“Only if you take one with me.”

Keith smiles at this, nodding his head as he arches away from the computer, resting against the back of the chair.  When Lance just sits there staring, eyes slowly flickering to his mostly blank document before forcing them away, Keith decides on a new approach. “Talk about something, just anything to get your mind off your essay.”

Over the years, Lance has become hesitant at accepting these propositions, realizing that when a person meant ‘talk’ they did not mean about  _everything_. But Lance is a person who needs to talk--about his day, about the little thing he noticed on the way to class, about his worries, and about random thoughts that pop into his head at 2:00 AM that he can’t bother Hunk with. Most people tune him out after a minute, yet he’s found that Keith remains interested, quietly listening but never appearing bored.

Lance cautiously begins to speak, a thought that has been plaguing him recently slowly surfacing to his mind. “I noticed you liked to read, and wow, how’d you get your hands on an actual book? They stopped being printed like what? Fifty years ago? Everything’s digital now.”

Those violet-gray eyes light up immediately, and Lance knows he’s hit the jackpot on topics of conversation. “It’s  _Fahrenheit 451_.” Amazingly, Keith pulls out his tattered copy from his back pocket, hidden by his uniform.

Lance’s mouth twists slightly. “That’s…”

“Ironic? Yes, I know.” Keith sends him a tight lipped expression, as if holding in memories he has to brace himself to share. “It was my father’s; he was a firefighter too.” Out of habit, Keith runs a finger across the worn cover.

 _Was,_ Lance quietly thinks,  _not_ is. He suddenly understands everything.

Rolling his chair closer to Keith, he easily drops his head on the other’s shoulder. “Read it to me?” Lance asks kindly.

As the seconds tick by, Lance almost thinks Keith will refuse when suddenly there’s a soft intake of air as Keith parts his lips, fingers touching the crinkled page of the opening chapter. A melody fills the air as Lance closes his eyes. “It was a pleasure to burn…”

* * *

 

“I wanna show you something,” Keith says innocently, leaning his arms on the back of Lance’s chair. He arches his body forward so that his face is directly in front of Lance, albeit upside down, and his long hair hangs like a curtain. Though, for once, Lance can clearly see his bright eyes, no longer shadowed. There’s a cheeky grin on Keith’s face that Lance can’t help but mirror.

The library is relatively crowded for a post midterm environment around campus, but professors never slow down doling out assignments. Lance’s textbooks are left forgotten on the table as Keith claims his full attention.

“Right now?”

Biting his lip, as if anxious, Keith nods. “Mm, yeah, the sun’s setting; it’s a perfect time to go up.”

Intrigued, especially since Lance has a feeling they’ll be staying up way past curfew and this has all the telltale signs of a date--their first true date--the grin grows impossibly larger. “I thought I was supposed to be the one wooing you?”

“I’m full of surprises,” Keith says casually, ever the mystery.

As they weave through the halls hand in hand, Lance soon discovers that Keith is leading him to the roof. This place has always been shadowed in rumors, whispers of it being the best date spot or makeout location or place to just sit and think, but he never had the courage to seek it out for himself.  

The hot desert air hits Lance immediately. Rocky cliffs and a sandy, desert floor are all he can concentrate on at first, the setting sun dusting everything in an orangey glow. Turning his gaze away from the view, he watches Keith strip off his Garrison uniform, revealing a gray tank top beneath. As the scratchy material of Lance’s own uniform sticks to his body, he finds himself following Keith’s example. Though a dry breeze graces his exposed skin, sweat continues to bead up, but he enjoys the view just the same--which includes Keith.

Walking to the edge of the roof, Keith stretches out his arms as he breathes deeply. When he glances back at Lance, hair dancing in the wind, everything changes.

The way his eyes glitter under the starlit sky, the way his pale skin glows in this oncoming darkness, the way he perfectly fits in with this desert landscape, and suddenly Lance feels out of place. Yet, as Keith stretches out a hand, a quiet smile gracing his lips, Lance finds himself taking the offering, their fingers curling together as he’s pulled closer to the edge and into Keith’s embrace.  

Suddenly Lance can no longer breathe.

Keith’s gaze is ice, piercing his skin, and his hair sweeps across his face, only slightly breaking up that intense look. “Have you been properly wooed yet, Lance?” Keith asks cheekily as he drapes his arms over Lance’s shoulders.

Playfully scowling, Lance has to shake his head. “I can’t  _believe_ you beat me to it! I’m supposed to take you out on the romantic dates.”

“Well, you know the old saying, ‘you snooze, you lose,’” Keith replies, “And besides, what’s life without a little surprise now and then?”

Lance’s hair had been buzzed before he came to the Garrison, but now, months later, soft curls fall onto his forehead, and it’s just long enough for Keith to lazily card his hand through the strands, his pale skin lost in the darkness. “Keith, you sneaky bastard, I’m gonna blow this date out of the water one day, just you wait.”

Intrigued, Keith arches an eyebrow as he begins to lean forward. “Oh, are you sure about that?”

Under the perfect canopy of stars, this is how Lance experiences his first kiss, and he melts.

* * *

 

That moment and every moment both before and after, Lance will later recall, is when he truly and deeply fell in love with Keith.

* * *

A lunch tray slams down on the table, startling Lance from whatever day dream he had been caught in--it probably involved Keith; it always involves Keith--and when he glances up, he finds himself face to face with Takashi Shirogane.

The older man doesn’t look concerned about this odd scene, randomly sitting down at a cadet’s table instead of the one reserved for officers in their special, and very off limits, lounge. Lance cocks an eyebrow, willing the man to speak.

“So you and Keith, huh?” Shirogane says, tearing at a slice of bread.

“Y-yessir.”

“I’m technically his guardian while he stays here, so if  _anything_ happens, you’ll have to deal with me. That clear?”

Gulping, Lance pulls at the collar of his uniform, suddenly feeling ten degrees hotter as his palms begin to sweat.

“Shiro!” someone seethes behind them. The aforementioned man turns to discover Keith gripping his tray, dark eyes burning right into his soul. “What the  _hell_?” He stalks over to Lance’s side, slumping down onto the bench, so close that their shoulders brush. For comfort, Lance subtly places a hand on Keith’s thigh and smiles when he feels the tension in Keith melt away for a brief second.

“It’s my duty to lay some ground rules. He’s your first boyfriend after all.”

“You’re the worst.”

“But you’ll miss me when I’m gone,” Shirogane lightly teases.

“W-what?” Lance jumps back into the conversation, head flicking from Keith to Shirogane. “Where’re you going?”

The older man places a finger to his lips. “Supposed to be a secret, but I’m piloting a ship that’ll go to Kerberos.”

Lance whistles, impressed. “How long will you be gone?”

“Eight months to a year at most.” Keith growls at Shirogane’s response, stabbing a fork into his mashed potatoes before he tries for a more satisfying feel with the mystery meat. “So you have to promise to take care of Keith for me.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Keith states before Lance has a chance to respond.

Shirogane levels an unamused stare at both of them. “That’s not what I meant since I’m sure Lance is just as bad of an influence on you. But I’d rather not come back to Earth and discover that you’ve dropped out or something equally stupid.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Keith promises, a defiant glint in his eyes.

“Glad to hear it.”

* * *

 

“I know how to sneak out of the Garrison without getting caught,” Lance tells Keith on a Friday night. They hide in the library stacks; the iridescent glow of the fluorescent lights above them washes out their skin. Lance’s head rests on Keith’s shoulder, having been basking in whatever body soap his boyfriend uses--he suspects it’s a normal brand but it smells  _so_ good--but he lifts his head up to watch Keith’s expression.

“Really?” Keith asks, surprised. His hair has been tied into a loose ponytail, revealing the smooth skin of his neck that Lance hasn’t quite taken his eyes off of all night. It’s a rare sight after all, but his lips have already mapped its surface.

Lance knows Lieutenant Shirogane leaves for Kerberos in a couple weeks; he also knows Keith has begun carrying around his father’s book almost like a security blanket, never letting it go. He needs a distraction. And no one is a better distraction than Lance. As he stands, he places his hands on his hips. “Mmhm, I’m a master ninja spy after all.”

“Though I don’t want to doubt your skills, this is something I have to see to believe. You’re not the most subtle.”

Gasping in mock offence, Lance places a hand on his chest. “ _Et tu, Brute_? Betrayed by my own partner? And here I was going to take you to a club, to dance a little and maybe get a little drunk, you know, normal college kid shit. But now I don’t think you deserve that.”

Keith smirks, crossing his arms as he stands as well. He can’t meet Lance’s height but his aura makes up for the lost inches. “Oh, this is your attempt to beat me at best date, isn’t it?”

Swaying, Lance replies, “Maybe~, but I do believe we deserve a break.” Then he leans in closer, lips brushing by Keith’s ear as he whispers, “Plus, I wanna see you dance.”

Keith would deny the red hues staining his cheeks, but it’s clear to Lance; the sight makes him smile. “Alright,” Keith concedes at last, violet-gray eyes shining, “Take me away on this magical journey.”

 

Slipping past the guards and teachers after they changed into regular clothes had been easy, the grounds at night being mostly empty, but it’s not until Lance walks outside that he realizes he forgot one crucial detail of this well thought out plan: how are they going to get to a town many, many miles away? As if reading his expression, Keith just sighs, shaking his head, and indicates Lance to follow.

He brings Lance around back to some parked vehicles, idly resting and just waiting to be stolen for a late night adventure.

“You know how to ride a hoverbike?” Lance questions as he watches Keith gracefully hop on the back of one, hands locking around the controls like he had been born to ride, to fly. He belongs in the stars Lance realizes as he stares at Keith, the night sky consuming their surroundings.  

Keith levels an unimpressed glare at him. “Do you even know who I am?”

Lance laughs, the sound tumbling off his lips and echoing in the quiet air. As he awkwardly begins to straddle the back of the bike, his body continues to tremble with giddy chuckles until Keith mumbles something unintelligible and pulls on Lance’s arms to wrap around his waist. With an oof, Lance finds his nose burying into Keith’s hair as he molds his chest against Keith’s back. His smile touches Keith’s skin.

The hoverbike roars, and Lance hugs Keith tighter.  

 

A holographic screen showcases the latest bout of news though it is muted in favor of the music. The beat drums through the air, pounding into their skin and vibrating their bones. Lance basks in the feeling of being an hour away from the Garrison; with every note, the pressures of class and trying to make fighter pilot status simply vanish.

“Dance with me, Kogane,” Lance lightly commands, placing his mostly untouched drink down on the bartop. He holds out his hands for Keith to grab, already swaying to the beat of the bass.

Keith’s lips twist unpleasantly. “You’ll yell at me for stepping on your toes.”

“I promise I won’t,” Lance tries to coax Keith further into the crowd. It works slightly, Keith following with an amused smirk.

“Hm, we’ll see how long you last.” Keith’s nose trails across Lance’s jawline, lips softly grazing his skin, and with Keith placing his hands on Lance’s hips, fingers hooking into his belt loops, they begin to rock in sync.

“Oh? Is that a challenge?”

“I’m not going to purposefully step on your feet, Lance, that’s stupid.” He shakes his head in disbelief, a smile twitching at his lips. “Lead the way.”

The dance floor is reasonably crowded, it being a Friday night and college kids from surrounding institutions being the cause of most of the commotion. Keith and Lance manage to blend right in. Strobe lights break through the sweltering heat that everyone’s bodies create, and Lance can already feel the perspiration on his skin.

Keith’s movements remain timid at first, as if he’s a baby deer just learning how to walk, but with Lance encouraging him, guiding him, his body finally loosens. Pressing against Lance, fingers tightening their grip on his shirt, under the lights of the club, they are one entity. Confidence soaring, Keith is the one that begins leading Lance in this dance. He arches his head up, and Lance’s grin brightens every second he gets the chance to stare into those eyes. Lance weaves his hands into Keith’s long locks, tugging ever so slightly, curling thick strands around his brown fingers.

A moan escapes from Keith’s parted lips.

“You like that, huh?” Lance breathes, the words brushing over Keith’s skin as they press closer together--mainly because the dance floor becomes more and more packed, but mostly because they can’t get enough of each other. The ecstasy of being near one another is too much to handle.

When Keith touches him, fingers trailing under his shirt, Lance’s skin burns and he releases a stifled gasp. “Heh, you like that, huh?” Keith teases back, smirk appearing on his glistening skin.

“That’s unfair,” Lance says as Keith’s hands continue to caress his skin, but he retaliates by kissing him, hunger taking over every ounce of sense left within him. Lance can feel Keith smile into the kiss before he playfully grazes his teeth over Lance’s lower lip, drawing back only a fraction of an inch.

“Life’s unfair.”

Lance easily finds his reply, that doopy grin reappearing on his face as his hands slide back down to Keith’s waist. “But life led me to you.”

“Yeah,” Keith says, pressing a chaste kiss onto Lance’s waiting lips, “It did.”

 

The buzz from the one or two drinks slowly simmers in Lance’s mind. They leave the club thoroughly exhausted, feet aching from the pounding motion of dancing and throats tingling with the aftertaste of alcohol. Keith stumbles into him, hiccuping after a brief bout of laughter.  

There’s no way he can fly the hoverbike back to the Garrison now; Lance only hopes that he’s a quick learner or that an empty cab is nearby.

In all honesty, he should have expected Keith to be a lightweight. It’s comical in a way, big, intimidating Keith knocked off his feet by one shot of whatever alcoholic drink he ordered. Keith’s cheeks are rosy from intoxication, his smile goofily wide and words slurred together in a mixture of English and what sounds like Japanese.

This Keith is weird, Lance soon discovers as they walk along the street. It has to be around 3:00 AM by now, and every shop is closed. Only the street lights reveal that this town isn’t abandoned. Keith hops over a puddle and into the spotlight above; the faded yellow glow highlights every feature.  

This Keith isn’t afraid to share any detail no matter how small--not that Lance will find out how far that mental wall has truly fallen. He misses sober Keith and his brashness.

A soft, misty rain begins to fall upon them and Lance arches his head back, hoping for a downpour. It comes. Fat droplets plaster Lance’s hair to his forehead and cheeks, and his clothes are soon drenched, sticking to his body like a second skin. Sensing Keith walking towards him, Lance drags his mind away from the sky. Somehow, somehow, Keith remains flawless in this downpour despite that wet mop of hair practically covering his whole face. Lance sweeps his bangs away with a laugh, uncovering Keith’s eyes.  

“There you are,” Lance hums through the rain. Drops roll down his cheeks.  

“I think I love you,” Keith reveals, a tipsy smile on his face.

Those words sink into Lance’s skin, and they reappear later in his dreams along with gentle caresses.  

Lance doesn’t tell Keith about his confession when they are both sober in the morning, but if Lance is honest with himself, he realizes that he’s truly in love with Keith--he’s just too scared to admit it outloud.

* * *

 

They have two more months of pure bliss--of stolen kisses and glances and touches, but never confessions--and then everything crashes down with a round of thunderous applause. Lance is there when all of the cadets hear the news about the Kerberos mission.

Keith, a master of remaining emotionless around everyone who isn’t Lance or Lieutenant Shirogane, can’t help the wave of shock, anguish, and disbelief encompassing his expression. When the words ‘pilot error’ flash across the screen, Keith silently snaps. His chair scrapes against the ground, students’ papers flutter as he walks past, and the door slams shut in his wake.

The class settles into an ominous silence after his departure, equally trying to understand the shock of seeing their most reserved classmate pissed and the shock of hearing about the death of two senior officers and a recent graduate.

Able to leave without their professor noticing, Lance quickly follows Keith. The hallway is already empty by the time Lance escapes, but his feet quickly guide him to where he needs to go. When he reaches the access door to the roof, the minute he walks out the sun blinds him. He shields his eyes, searching in vain for Keith. Lance almost has to walk around the whole complex until he spots a dark figure sitting on the very edge, with hunched shoulders and legs swinging to and fro.

Quietly, Lance sits beside him. But after a minute he decides to speak, the thickening silence beginning to eat away at him. “They don’t know a lot; the crew could still be alive.”

“Maybe,” Keith whispers, hands clenching in his lap. Then he turns to Lance, face emotionless, lips tight. “But you can’t truly believe that.”

Studying him, gazing over every inch, Lance is surprised to find that there is no red tinge in Keith’s eyes and that his skin isn’t puffy. “You know,” he begins softly, “it’s alright to cry.”

Keith’s stare hardens the longer his eyes stay trained on Lance’s face. Despite there being no physical evidence of mourning, his black hair is a rat’s nest of tangles as if he’s been dragging a hand through it consistently. Lance itches to reach out and smooth it down, to comfort Keith in any way he knows how--with hugs and soothing words--but he’s not sure how receptive Keith will be to it. At this point, Keith looks like a viper ready to strike.

Lance remains silent and motionless, waiting for Keith to reach out if he wants to. It’s the hardest thing he’s ever done.

After what feels like a millennium of staring at the scenery, of the endless mountains and wastelands of the Arizona desert, Keith speaks, voice rough. “I don’t remember how to cry.”

Lance’s gaze swings back to Keith only to be hit with the full force of his body crashing into him. They sit in silence for the rest of the evening, Keith’s arms wrapping ever so tighter around Lance’s frame, and vice versa, until neither of them believe they can ever breathe again.

* * *

 

Lance is there when Keith punches Iverson. He’s there when Keith, lone bag of belongings in his hands, is shamefully escorted off the premise and unkindly shoved to the curb--Lance hides behind a few transport vehicles as he watches the scene unfold, but his heart lurches as if he had been standing beside Keith.

It’s a beautiful day, with a few wispy clouds in the sky breaking up the blue expanse, and this just makes everything that much more painful.

Though it’s the middle of the day and Lance is currently skipping class, he couldn’t let Keith just walk away, not without a goodbye, not without one last kiss, not without holding Keith in his arms one last time. Once Iverson and a few other officials head inside, Lance sneaks through the gate, boots clapping against the concrete.  

“Leaving without saying goodbye?” Lance lightheartedly comments, arms crossed but body loose.

Startled, Keith swings around, and his bag bounces against his back with the movement. It’s almost too weird to see Keith in normal clothes during a school day, wearing a dark t-shirt and jeans; it makes him look older, more burdened. “ _Lance?_ What the hell are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in class.”

Dropping his arms, Lance’s gaze softens as much as his voice does. “I wanted to say goodbye.”

Keith sadly shakes his head as he walks closer, fingers gripping the strap of his bag until his knuckles turn white. “I don’t like goodbyes… they feel too final, permanent.” Keith’s dark eyes flicker up to Lance though they’re shadowed by his bangs.  

Lance bites his bottom lip. “Not a goodbye then. How about a ‘see you later’?”

Instead of a response, Keith kisses Lance, hands cupping his face and thumbs brushing underneath his eyes. The sensation tingles deep into Lance’s bones, dashing down his spine and into every nerve ending. Keith’s lips taste of salt; maybe he finally learned how to cry after all. One last time, Lance’s body molds against Keith’s, hands curling into his long hair, and he just breathes in every last ounce of him. He absorbs everything he can.   

They pull apart as more clouds accumulate in the sky, a little darker than before. They may have separated but they are only an inch apart; their touches still link them. Lance’s fingers brush a lock of hair behind Keith’s ear.

“Here,” Keith says quietly, holding his most prized possession between them. “Keep it safe.”

“I-I can’t take this. I--”

“It’s not yours to keep,” he laughs slightly, “But it’s my way of saying I’ll be back… someday.”

Lance nods in understanding, clutching the book tight before slipping it into his pocket. “It’ll be waiting for you;  _I’ll_ be waiting.” He can’t seem to let go, hands continuing to card through Keith’s hair and caress his skin. He can’t let go, and neither can Keith, who holds onto Lance for as long as he can. “Where will you go?”

“My family had a house out here; I don’t know if it’s still standing or not, but I have to try at least.” A sigh escapes from Keith, and for the first time, Lance realizes how much Keith doesn’t want to leave. It’s all just a bunch of unfortunate circumstances that has landed him on the other side of the Garrison’s gate.

“I wish you didn’t have to go. If Iverson wasn’t such a bast--”

“Lance,” Keith quickly interrupts, “Yes, Iverson was out of line with that comment about Shiro, but it’s my temper that’s the problem. It’s my fault, and I gotta deal with it. But I’ll be fine; I know how to take care of myself.”

His fingers trail over Lance’s features, mapping every aspect of him to commit him to memory, and Lance’s eyes flutter closed on contact. “Oh, Keith.”

Keith’s breath tickles his skin as he says, “Don’t worry, I could never forget about you… about  _us_.”

In that moment Lance should have been thinking,  _what a liar Keith will turn out to be_. Instead, he presses one last kiss onto those chapped lips and dreams of their perfect reunion.

As they walk away from each other, the now dark sky opens up one last time, and it pours.

The rain burns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm kinda interested in continuing this with maybe one more chapter of them coming back together after finding the lions and stuff, but let me know in the comments if you want this to continue!
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos:)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith’s face flickers with pain, which Lance has to admit he enjoys. “Lance, I--”
> 
> Seething, Lance can barely look at Keith, and instead, he directs his gaze towards the stars surrounding them. “Don’t ‘Lance’ me. You have no right to speak.”
> 
> He had been shocked at first when Keith had uttered those four words, because surely he heard wrong. Surely the man who he gave his first kiss to, the man who he would have given his first everything to, didn’t just say he forgot everything. Lance had waited for the punchline to this joke until he remembered Keith was terrible at telling jokes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally finished part 2! Hope you all enjoy it:)
> 
> Snakes by Bastille perfectly fits Keith in this chapter; give it a listen!

**** Lance’s eyes harshly glimmer in the soft darkness, cutting through the thick tension hanging between the two men. Standing in front of him on the bridge of the Castle of Lions is Keith, who is outlined in the faint blue light from the Balmera crystal. In this moment, he looks otherworldly. Lance’s arms are crossed, a growl ready to escape past his lips. 

_ Do I know you? _

“So, what, the desert just turned you into an asshole?” Lance finally snaps. It’s been a few days since they were first dragged into space and formed Voltron. Being so far away from home and not knowing when they’ll be able to return constantly plagues Lance’s mind. It eats away at him when he’s alone in his new room, far away from the rest of his teammates. 

It’s also been a few days since Keith told Lance he didn’t remember him. 

What a bunch of bullshit this whole thing has been.

“Oh, and here’s your stupid book back.” Carelessly, Lance tosses the object, watching Keith scramble to catch it unexpectedly as it lands softly in his palms. He stares at the book and something indecipherable flashes through his eyes. Lance watches as his fingers hesitantly graze over the cover, re familiarizing himself with a forgotten memory. At one point in time, Lance thought Keith would be doing the same with him when they reunited, soft hands mapping his body again.

Keith’s face flickers with pain, which Lance has to admit he enjoys. “Lance, I--”

Seething, Lance can barely look at Keith, and instead, he directs his gaze towards the stars surrounding them. “Don’t ‘Lance’ me. You have no right to speak.”

He had been shocked at first when Keith had uttered those four words, because surely he heard wrong. Surely the man who he gave his first kiss to, the man who he would have given his first everything to, didn’t just say he forgot  _ everything _ . Lance had waited for the punchline to this joke until he remembered Keith was terrible at telling jokes. 

“Do you want me to explain or not?” Keith bites back, his large violet-gray eyes narrowing to a glare. He mirrors Lance’s stance, arms crossed now and body tight with tension and anger. 

“I don’t know. What can you possibly say that will fix this? I know you didn’t get amnesia or some other cliché bullshit. So what happened, Keith, what caused you to forget about  _ us _ ?”

Frustrated, Keith cards a hand through his black hair--it’s slightly longer than Lance remembers; he wonders if it’s still just as soft, but he shouldn’t be thinking this way anymore. Closing his eyes briefly and hands tightening into fists, Keith speaks. “After a few weeks, I was going stir crazy, alright? I had no way to get back to you and I was alone in this shack and every minute without you hurt. Too much. It was better to forget, and to be honest, I never thought I’d see you again anyways. But when I did see you, everything came roaring back so I said the first thing that came to mind in hopes that maybe my feelings would just vanish if  _ you  _ thought they did.” At this point, Keith growls at himself and the heels of his palms dig into his eyes. “But it hasn’t stopped, the memories. I do remember you, Lance, I remember everything about you. But back then, I needed some distance, so I let myself believe I forgot you.” 

Lance remains silent during Keith’s brief pause, and he ends with, “I’m glad you were finally able to make fighter pilot status though; I know how much it meant to you.”

There’s no clear ‘I’m sorry’ in Keith’s little monologue and maybe that’s what angers Lance the most right now. So maybe Keith had just been putting on a little act up until now, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that Lance truly believed Keith forgot him--that he wasn’t special enough to be remembered. His eyes snap up to meet Keith’s, and something stings in the corner of his eye. It’s probably a tear. “Don’t, don’t mock me like that.”

“I wasn’t, I--”

Lance bites his lower lip, twisting his body around to now face the door. “Just leave me alone, Keith.” Beginning to walk out, he allows himself to look at Keith one more time, eyes like ice, too solid to be melted by the other’s fire. “Isn’t that what you wanted in the first place anyways?”

Those violet-gray eyes glow under the light of the crystal.

As he leaves the bridge, something in Lance’s mind pulls him from behind, though he’s quick to realize that it’s not so much a harsh action but more of a gentle tug like an animal grabbing at the hem of his pants.  _ Blue _ . Why does she care?

_ You’re hurting,  _ her emotions seem to say,  _ and so is he.  _

_ Good,  _ he vehemently thinks, shoulders slumping as he walks through the halls, feet dragging across the floor. He wonders if Keith is still on the bridge with his dumb emotionless expression and dumb cropped jacket and his even dumber hair.  __

_ Not  _ good, Blue retaliates.

_ Yeah, _ he sighs, _ I know. _

She leaves it be for the rest of the evening, returning to a residing humming inside Lance’s mind. It’s weird to have another voice, entity, inside his head, but her voice, her emotions, her love is a constant companion now. Just another new thing to get used to in this crazy messed up world. 

He misses Earth.

He misses his family.

He misses the Keith he knew at the Garrison. 

Lance cries himself to sleep that night, remembering a better world.

* * *

 

Walking the halls at night has become Keith’s new routine. He can’t sleep anymore; he hasn’t properly slept since he left the Garrison a year ago. Some would call it insomnia; he calls it loneliness. The sounds of the desert had kept him up at night, the little lizards crawling up the walls every so often, and it was so, so hot. Nothing could cool the heat that slowly suffocated him every day. 

“Why am I such an idiot!?” Keith screams at himself in frustration. His voice echoes throughout the abandoned hallway.  _ Lance and his kind blue eyes. _

And his flawless brown skin and soft hair and warm fingers that trailed up Keith’s skin and wrapped in his hair. Those were the memories he originally kept with himself in the desert during the long sleepless nights. Too late did he realize that it was those memories that were keeping him awake; yet when he slowly pushed them to the back of his mind, locking them up with a key, he found he still couldn't sleep. 

He may never sleep again.

“Oh, Lance, why did I let you go?” Keith asks the darkness.

No one answers, and Red’s melodic hum has turned to silence.  

* * *

 

Lance finds a nice quiet corner in the unoccupied lounge area. The couch would be more comfortable, the floor already numbing his ass, but he wants to suffer. A hand sits in his hair as he grits his teeth; he can’t stop the memories, not with seeing Keith everyday. With a swoosh, Lance distantly hears the doors open to reveal a lone figure.

“Hey, Shiro,” Lance responds glumly, face resting on his knees and his arms blocking any light. To be honest, Lance had been anticipating this conversation. His and Keith’s… problem with each other was gunking up the process of forming Voltron. They haven’t been able to create the giant robot since they were all going to die back on Arus. 

Lance knows it’s mostly his fault.

He also knows that Shiro is probably here to make a big speech about teamwork and getting along. 

Their leader slides down the wall, sitting a few inches away from Lance. Peeking out from behind his arm, Lance curiously stares at Shiro, waiting for the older man to speak first. When it doesn’t come and they continue to have a stare off--Shiro’s dark eyes never wavering--Lance sighs. “I bet you’re going to defend Keith, right?” he frowns, “Alright, let me hear it.”

“No, I’m not,” Shiro says at last. 

This catches Lance’s attention immediately as he practically shoots up from his slumped position, rotating his body to look at Shiro in full. “What?”

“He may be like a little brother to me, but what he did to you was extremely shitty.”

_ You got that right.  _ “Oh, um thanks, I guess.” Lance awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, wondering how Shiro will direct this conversation now. 

Shiro’s prosthetic absentmindedly taps on the floor, the clinking of metal upon metal echoing throughout the room. His dark eyes are far away when he begins his story. “I broke up with my boyfriend before I left for Kerberos. Hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I also knew it was the right decision. Even if I’ll always love him in some way, I don’t think I regret it. So I guess what I’m saying is that I know breakups suck, but the hurt will lessen over time.”

As he bites his bottom lip, Lance’s mouth tastes metallic. “That’s the thing though, we never, uh, we never actually broke up.”

“What?” Shiro’s face twists in surprise at this new information.

Slowly, Lance begins to nod his head, realizing how true that statement is--for a year, Lance had automatically told people that he was taken if they asked him out on a date. Disbelief shined in their eyes, but back then, at least Lance had known his statement was true. How stupid he had been. “Yeah, when Keith left, we assumed we would see each other again so we never really broke up, I guess.”

Even to this day, those words have never passed their lips. 

“Ah, this makes it ten times worse.” Shiro’s head leans against the wall as his eyes close for a brief second.

“If you were supposed to cheer me up, Shiro, this isn’t working.” Lance chuckles, the sound void of any humor, as he returns to slouching against the wall. 

He grins apologetically. “Sorry. This situation is just one big mess, isn’t it?”

A flat stare is sent Shiro’s way. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.” 

Studying him, Shiro must have found something interesting in Lance’s expression for his brows dip in concentration as if formulating some type of battle plan. “Talk to Keith again, for yourself and for me if you don’t want to do it for him. It’ll help; trust me.”

* * *

 

“I could have visited you,” Lance says quietly as he strips off his Paladin armor. He finds himself alone with Keith in the changing room; he’s been finding himself left alone with Keith quite often these past few days--how much Lance would have enjoyed this if they were still dating--but this is the first time Lance speaks. 

Keith’s body is adorned in the the black bodysuit and the remaining leg armor he has yet to take off. The tight material outlines every muscle of his body, and Lance can’t look except that he forces himself to, watching as Keith’s back tenses with the realization that Lance is actually starting a conversation. “I lived more than three hours away. We’d have probably only gotten five minutes with each other at most before you’d have had to head back.”

“Five minutes is better than nothing.”

“Not for me,” comes Keith’s clipped reply. “I’ve seen how long distance relationships end.”

Lance’s lips twist. “You know, you always talk about how everyone in your life eventually leaves you, but you never make it easy for the ones that want to stay.”

Keith remains silent, emotionless, his hands steady as he grips his dark t-shirt. A year away from each other and Lance finds that he can’t read Keith anymore, too out of practice to decode this enigma. He doesn’t make a move to speak. Lance instantly knows he never will.  

“Wow, it’s like talking to a brick wall,” he scowls, setting down the last remnants of armor as he stalks out of the room. When the door slides shut, Lance hears a frustrated groan seep underneath the doorway. It doesn’t make him smile.

* * *

 

Keith barely refrains from punching the wall, his hands falling in tight fists by his side. “You’d think I could speak to him like a normal human being, but nooo. I just have to keep digging myself into a hole.” 

Words have always failed him. No matter how much he reads, no matter how much he absorbs by watching how others communicate, he can’t seem to find the right things to say. His mind is often too jumbled and this leads him to resorting to actions instead. Actions won’t fix this situation though. 

Lance understands words best, something Keith can’t seem to give him… or at least give him properly. 

His eyes drift down to his father’s book laying on the bench beside him. After being reunited with the object, Keith studied it one night, wanting to catalogue every new scratch or bend or worn words, but he had been surprised to discover it remained in the exact same condition he had left it in. It brought a smile to his lips--slightly since the memory of the departure is somehow still raw--to know Lance cared for his most prized possession. Keith wonders if Lance ever read it even once during that year and if he ever thought of Keith while doing so--and of the late nights in the computer lab when Keith would read portions of the chapters to quell Lance’s racing mind.  

It’s a selfish, vain thought.

Leaning down, Keith picks up the book again; it falls open to the first chapter, the binding having been creased in that exact position too many times. When he reads it now, he is not filled with longing to be with his father, running around the fire station, wearing the too big uniform with a goofy smile on his young face. No, this time he is filled with longing for a boy with blue eyes.

For once, the story isn’t satisfying, and he’s the one that burns.

* * *

 

“I can’t help but feel guilty,” Hunk says out loud as he tinkers away on Yellow. Lance works nearby, polishing one of Blue’s paws until his frowning face reflects back at him in the metal. The rhythmic motion of moving around the damp cloth calms his ever erratic thoughts. Blinking, Lance finally peeks at his best friend.

“About what?” he questions, head tilting to the side.

Hunk wipes his greasy hands on a rag hanging from his belt before he reluctantly looks at Lance. There’s a grimace on his lips. “This whole thing with you and Keith.”

“Buddy,” Lance begins, now straightening, and he steps away from Blue. “That’s not your fal--”

“But technically it is. You would have just continued on pining if I didn’t force you to go.”

A sigh leaves Lance’s lips as he crosses his arms and stares at the floor. His reflection is the same as it was in Blue’s paw. “You didn’t force me to do anything. Don’t feel bad. I’m the one who should have realized nothing good would have come out of dating Keith.”

“You don’t mean that.” Hunk’s expression saddens. “Remember those nights in the Garrison, when I had to listen to you gush about Keith? You  _ really  _ liked him. I think you still do or else you wouldn’t be obsessing over him so much. You’ve gone through bad relationships before, so why is this one suddenly so different?”

Blue hums in his ear as if wondering the same thing. 

_ Because somehow over the course of that year I fell in love with him,  _ Lance thinks. That’s something he had kept a secret from Hunk, as if he was trying to keep it a secret from even himself. If Lance forgot about that feeling then it wasn’t real. 

Maybe that’s how Keith felt.

Lance frowns at that thought. Huh. “I don’t know,” he eventually says out loud.

They return to working in silence.

* * *

 

When Lance wanders into the training room, he quickly notices that it is already occupied. Keith fights the gladiator bot, sliding and ducking away from attacks. With his back towards Lance, he has no idea of his audience, but as if aware of someone watching, he artfully slices the bot across the stomach, ending the match. Keith’s hair as been tied into a small ponytail again, though wisps fly around his head, having wandered out of the hair tie from the quick movements of combat. Then, unexpectedly, Keith turns, only for his face to widen in surprise at finding Lance watching him.

There’s something about that open and honest expression that captures Lance’s attention.

Keith’s pale skin glistens with sweat, and as he walks closer to Lance, he uses his shirt to wipe away the perspiration, revealing a thin strip of skin near the waistline of his pants. Lance has to look down before he does something stupid. 

“Hey, uh do you want to spar?” Keith asks hesitantly, allowing the peace offering to hang in the air. Pulling out his hair tie, as if just wanting his hands to have a task, black locks fall to his shoulders in soft waves, and his damp bangs stick to his forehead. 

Blue eyes flickering up, Lance tries his hardest to breathe normal.  _ You’re still angry with him… even if he looks very attractive right now _ , he has to tell himself. A tight smile winds its way onto his face; sparring requires very little talking, and maybe Lance will be able to vent some pent up frustration with this sudden surge of competitiveness. “As long as you’re alright with me wiping the floor with you...”

“Oh it’s on, McClain.”

Lance ends up eating his words of course, but he expected that. Laying on the floor of the training room, Keith’s body arches above him, a triumphant smirk on his face. Their bayards are scattered around the room as the end of their fight had switched to hand-to-hand combat. Muscles aching, Lance can’t force himself to move, subconsciously enjoying being trapped under Keith’s eyes. His long hair brushes across Lance’s cheeks when he leans forward.

“I win.” Keith’s hot breath washes over Lance’s skin, and his eyes flutter closed. 

_ Normal, this is normal and nice.  _ Then Keith, high on ecstasy from the fight, opens his mouth, and Lance is forced to remember everything again, and suddenly things are not normal as Keith attempts to continue the conversation from a day or two ago.  

Yet, all of this is progress.

“I loved you, Lance, so much. But for once,” he bitterly laughs at the thing he’s going to say next, “I had to leave the one I loved, not the other way around.”

“ _ Loved _ ? Does that mean you don’t love me anymore?” Lance asks quietly, suddenly feeling vulnerable, exposed. The floor is cold.

Keith raises an eyebrow though his eyes flash in surprise at the question. “It’s been a year. You don’t know me anymore; you probably wouldn’t even want to be with me. You’re right, by the way, the desert did make me an asshole. I learned to grow up.”

Vaguely noticing Keith avoiding the real question,  _ again _ , Lance frowns, eyes saddened by the thought that maybe there is nothing left between them anymore. Yet this idea nauseates him because somehow he does want to keep loving Keith; those emotions have never gone away. “I’ve known,” Lance begins suddenly. 

Startled, Keith sits back on Lance’s stomach. “Huh?”

“That night when we got drunk, you told me you loved me,” Lance finally tells him, and a bit of invisible pressure lifts off his chest. He props himself up on his forearms to watch Keith. The man grimaces, a groan escaping.  

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Keith whines, hands carding through his hair, “God, that’s so embarrassing.”

A dam breaks inside of Lance.

“I loved you too, in that moment and every other moment.” The one secret he had been keeping sets him free. Keith’s hands resting on Lance’s chest tremble at the new information. “You don’t think I was scared too? I’ve had relationships before, Keith, but nothing like what we had. I was scared that I  _ really  _ loved you.”

“Why?” His words are quiet, almost undetectable. 

“Because I knew you belonged to the stars and I knew I wouldn’t be able to follow.”

A soft, unexpected smile graces Keith’s lips. “But you did follow.”

Suddenly, their faces are a lot closer than before. Lance is caught in his gaze.

“I guess I did.”

Their lips teasingly brush together--equally calling up a memory from the past and hope for the future. Lance’s hand snakes up Keith’s arm, and Keith’s hands tightly grip Lance’s shirt, as if to ground him in the moment. Aching for a taste of each other, they continue to kiss for what feels like a year, soft breaths passing between them that dance across Lance’s cheeks. It’s not until his lips begin to travel down Keith’s skin with a butterfly’s touch that Lance realizes what they’ve been doing.   

Hastily, Lance jerks back and Keith immediately follows, startled as well. “I--I gotta go,” he says, pushing Keith off of him with little finesse. 

As Lance leaves the training room, he catches Keith just sitting there on the ground, a dazed look in his eyes, as an astonished whisper of “he loved me too?” drifts passed his lips, and Lance almost cries.

* * *

 

Keith does cry.

_ Loved _ ? No one, excluding Shiro, has ever used that word around Keith. No one. And now he might have just lost the only other person that does… or did. It’s so confusing. Keith hopes it never turned to past tense. It hasn’t for him, despite his inability to speak the truth his mind contains. 

That knowledge changes something inside of Keith.

He really fucked everything up, didn’t he? Red purrs in amusement, and Keith mentally scowls at his lion as he flops onto the training room floor to stare up at nothing. 

Throughout the rest of the day, the kiss remains on his lips, the imprint of Lance’s mouth on his never fading.

* * *

 

Pidge slaps Lance’s hand away as he invades her space, utterly board. He drapes himself over the back of her chair, chin resting on her shoulder, as he watches her type some algorithm on her computer. 

It takes a minute for her to bring up the elephant in the room, knowing just who Lance is trying to avoid. “I never got to see you two together, but what I’ve gathered from Shiro and Hunk is that you two were inseparable.”

“Yeah, I miss it,” Lance replies for longingly.

He’s been thinking about Keith a lot lately, when he wakes up in the morning, when he goes to sleep, when he’s walking down the hall and pauses by Keith’s door wondering what would happen if he knocks but he never does.

Lance remembers a time when his head laid on Keith’s chest, whole body stretched out, and he watched his feet wave back and forth. The stars were the backdrop to this moment as they once again found themselves on the Garrison roof. It had been a week or so after their first kiss, but even after that many days having passed since the event, Lance’s lips still tingled. Lazily, Keith’s fingers carded through Lance’s hair as they stared at the night sky above them. 

“Do you ever wonder what we’ll be like in four years, after we graduate from this place?” Keith offhandedly commented, often becoming philosophical when it was just him and Lance and the quiet scenery. 

Lance couldn’t see Keith’s face, but he suspected Keith’s lips were pursed. “We all know you’re going to be the best fighter pilot in the galaxy.”

Keith’s hand stalled in Lance’s hair as he pondered what to say next. His voice was light. “I was talking about us; who cares about our careers.”

Curling around to face Keith, Lance propped his chin up on his arms that now lie across Keith’s chest. Bright eyes gleamed under the moonlight as a genuine smile captured his face. “So you’re in this for the long run? That’s good to know.”

“You still haven’t given an answer….” Keith tilted his head in the darkness, face innocent and free. His black hair was spread out in inky waves across the gray concrete, and Lance gently curled one lock around his finger before tucking it behind Keith’s ear.

A shooting star streaked across the sky; it went unnoticed as Lance finally found a thought to voice out loud. 

“I don’t know; I just hope we’re happy.”

Pidge pinches Lance’s arm, and her eyes hold a deadpan expression behind her round frames. “You miss  _ him _ .”

Shaking his head to expel the memory fogging his mind, Lance sits up straighter, bones cracking. “I--”

“Do you still have feelings for him?”

“Of course,” Lance comments as if it should have been readily obvious. Though, that quick answer even surprises himself, but he knows it’s always been true--a realization he began to come to terms with during that impromptu sparring match. He still wants to kiss Keith, still wants to be with Keith, still wants to  _ love  _ Keith. But does Keith even want to be with him?

Possibly.

Keith freely kissed him back after all.

“Then maybe you should start figuring out why you can’t let go of your feelings for him, despite what’s happened,” Pidge begins to say, tone fierce and inarguable. “Why haven’t you forgiven him, Lance, if you still like him so much? What’s stopping you from being with him when he clearly hasn’t gotten over you either?” Then she stares at Lance, cocking her head in a questioning manner as if trying to find that one last puzzle piece. “He’s apologized to you, right?”

_ Has he? _

* * *

 

It had been a particularly brutal mission, Lance almost dying  _ again  _ but at least this time he came back not needing the healing pod. His whole body is sore and bruises litter his brown skin, but if that’s the price to pay for life, he’ll gladly except it. What’s most surprising about the outcome of the battle is the fact that he finds himself wrapped in Keith’s embrace in the lions’ hanger long after the rest of the group has departed. 

His arms tighten around Lance’s body as if he will disappear any second. Lance allows himself to close his eyes, head dropping to the crook of Keith’s neck; the ends of his long hair tickle Lance’s nose. 

The paladin armor bites into his skin and prevents Lance from feeling the warmth Keith’s body provides. 

“Don’t ever try to sacrifice yourself for me again, Lance, you hear me?” Keith’s voice is rough, like he has just been screaming or crying for hours on end though Lance knows he hasn’t done either. 

Lance lifts his head up to stare at Keith; the hug loosens as they step back. “Heh, you know I can’t make that promise.” Ending with a smile, Lance hopes it relieves some tension. 

By the unimpressed look in Keith’s eyes, it does not. “Just be careful next time, alright?”

“I will.” Though the conversation has ended, neither of them leave, and Keith’s arms are still lightly wrapped around Lance’s waist though they haven’t noticed. Lance watches Keith’s downcast expression, his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip in anxiety. “Is there something else you want to say?” Lance questions, eyebrow raising in curiosity. 

Violet-gray eyes swing up, and Keith releases one last deep breath. “Do you think we could try one more time? We’re both hurting; I know we both still have feelings… and part of me feels like this is the only way to fix it.”  

“I’m still mad at you,” Lance replies with no malice in his tone.

A hand caresses his cheek and Lance automatically leans into it. The warmth it spreads through his whole body is welcoming. “I know and I’ll make it up to you. You really do mean so much to me,” Keith breathes, “Being able to be near you again but not  _ with  _ you is just as painful. I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Lance whispers, his forehead resting against Keith’s. His nose brushes Keith’s skin, caught up in the new, flowery scent of the Altean version of body wash. It smells even better than the Garrison’s soap. Lance wants to taste his skin, his lips, his entire being.  

Keith’s gaze is soft, hopeful in a way. “So can we try again?”

“I don’t know, Keith, I don’t know.”  _ I want to,  _ is how Lance would like to respond but his mouth doesn’t want to form the words. He reluctantly breaks away, his mind not in sync with his heart just yet. “I don’t think I’m ready.”

* * *

 

“I thought he wanted to be with me again,” Keith tells Shiro, flopping down on the older man’s bed. He thought that that would have worked, especially after that kiss he and Lance shared a few days ago. The raw emotions that he felt in Lance’s touch couldn’t have been faked, not even by the best con artist. Everything had been too real.

And Keith just wants to be with Lance again; the pain that had caused this entire mess in the first place has returned, a constant dull ache that just won’t leave. 

A holopad clatters on the desk as Shiro gives Keith his attention, turning around in his chair. “Maybe he does, but it’s clear he still hasn’t forgiven you…. despite the fact that we can form Voltron now.”

“But I’ve explained to him…” Keith trails off, utterly hopeless. The pillow is soft and his head sinks down until he can no longer see Shiro out of his peripheral vision. Above him lies the ceiling; he tries to count the imperfections but there are none.  

“Keith, have you actually  _ apologized _ ?”

Something dawns on Keith in that moment. “Fuck.”

* * *

 

Lance accidentally stumbles upon the two Alteans while on the way to the lounge. Specifically, he almost trips over them, his head having been lost in the clouds back on Earth. Coran and Allura kneel on the ground, fixing some failing system in the castle; they’ve been having to repair a lot of things lately. 

A quiet string of greetings is exchanged between the three, and Lance flashes his signature, fake smile to ward off any questions. He hadn’t changed expressions fast enough though, and both Alteans frown as they briefly catch Lance’s original dejected look.

“Keith on your mind?” Coran questions correctly, patting a spot on the ground for him to sit and chat.

Guilty, Lance shrugs his shoulders, accepting the invitation. He sits on the floor with his head arching back against the wall and legs spread out. “Yeah.”

“Not back together yet, then?” Coran’s voice comes again, though muffled, as he ducks his head into the opening of the wall, tugging on some wires. Lance picks up the detached panel and twirls it in his hands; the corners dig into his palms. He can’t quite seem to avoid Allura’s gaze who waits expectantly for an answer. 

“What makes you think we’re going to get back together?” He wants to though; oh God, does he want to be Keith’s again.... and apparently Keith wants to be with him too. Yet a little piercing sensation in Lance’s stomach prevents this from becoming a reality; forgiveness is at the tip of his tongue but he can’t seem to express it. 

“Lance, even I can see that he cares deeply for you,” Allura comments, “He always seeks you out in battle as if to protect you; it’s almost second nature to him. I don’t pretend to understand why things went the way they did, but I do know Keith is genuinely hurting over whatever he did to you.”

With one last sigh, placing the panel on the floor, Lance releases that remaining ounce of negativity. “Part of me gets why he needed to forget or pretend to forget--alone in the desert with nothing but your own thoughts? I can see how that would drive anyone crazy. But part of me is still upset, ya know? Because he was so special to me and I thought I was special to him.” He bangs the back of his head against the wall with a groan. 

Popping out again, Coran adds in his own opinion as he twirls the end of his moustache in remembrance. “That boy was outside your healing pod every night, saying things that I knew were meant to be kept private. I’m not sure how humans express affection for one another, but I can’t imagine it being much different than that. I might not have known Keith for long, but even I can tell he needs to express his feelings through actions rather than with words. You two are opposites in that regard.”

Lance bites his lip, head ducking into his chest. “I just want him back,” he quietly admits in the open space of the hallway and to his new friends. 

Allura’s smile is gentle. “Then you should tell him.”

He should, but it’s easier said than done.

“Thanks for talking with me,” Lance replies, wondering how many times their teammates have heard different sides to the same problem. 

“Well, sometimes you just need a stranger’s perspective.” White hair drapes over Allura’s shoulder as she moves in closer, handing Coran whatever tool he had been waving wildly for.

“You’re not strangers anymore,” Lance adds with a smile. “But you guys must be sick of all this drama.”

“Nonsense. After ten thousand years of sleep, this is fantastic entertainment,” Coran laughs, echoing through the entire ship, and Lance can’t help but chuckle alongside him.

* * *

 

Lance stands in the observatory with the universe behind him as Keith walks through the doors, determination plastered on his features. Sweeping a hand through his hair, mussing it even more into a bed head-like state, he utters two words. 

“I’m sorry.”

Lance’s eyes widen; this,  _ this  _ is what he has been waiting for for so long. No bullshit excuse, just a simple apology. His body feels light again, any remaining bile vanishing at the thought that this hiccup will all be behind them soon. Seeing this small reaction as encouragement, Keith continues onward.

“I’m sorry that I pretended to forget. I’m sorry that I allowed myself to pretend to forget, because that is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I’m sorry that I wasn’t a better boyfriend to you because you deserve the entire universe, Lance, and I know I’m not the one to give it to you. I--”

Interrupting, Lance says, “I think that’s for me to decide.”

“What?” Keith gaps for a second before confusion reigns in his expression.

“I don’t know, Keith, but I think you’ve done a pretty good job of giving me the universe,” Lance cracks a smile, his arms spreading wide to showcase the vast space just beyond those large windows. 

Immediately, every ounce of tension melts away from Keith’s body. He smiles as he says, “I still have one more apology.” Lance makes a motion for him to continue and Keith breathes deeply. “And um, I’m sorry it took me this long to truly apologize. I just thought if I kept explaining and explaining why I did what I did, it would smooth everything over and you’d understand. But that’s not what you do when you hurt someone; when you hurt someone you apologize for your actions and don’t try to justify them.”

“Keith,” Lance says quietly, walking over and gently caressing Keith’s skin. He allows his touch to finally have the freedom to explore and Keith lets him. Like a cartographer, he maps Keith’s face, only the instruments are his fingers instead of paper and ink. “Thank you. And I’m sorry too, that I couldn’t try to listen to you… I was just so blinded by anger. But I get why you did it. As human beings, we do anything we can to stop the pain.” 

“I still shouldn’t have done it. I think if I just let myself embrace the memories of you instead of pushing them away I would have been less lonely,” Keith whispers, eyes fluttering closed as Lance’s delicate touch passes across his cheekbones. 

Lance’s words are soft and honest. “That’s in the past now. You’re not alone anymore.”

“I know I need to rebuild my trust with you,” Keith says, eyes popping open upon the seriousness of the coming subject, “I’m not a fool thinking everything will be as it was. But I’d like to try. I wanna date you, Lance McClain, but if you don’t want to, that’s also okay.”

“So what I’m hearing is that you’re just really bad at romance,” Lance teasingly replies, one of the first moments they ever talked to each other surfacing in his mind. 

“Not the point of that,” Keith grins, understanding as they share the same memory, “But sure.” 

“Well I’d love to date you, Keith Kogane.”

Keith pokes Lance’s chest. “Good, because I’m gonna woo you so hard.”

“Not if I beat you to it,” Lance proudly proclaims, a wicked light shadowing his features. 

Keith smiles at that as if already imaging just what types of fantastical dates they’ll be having in space. Lance can’t wait to experience all of them. “Uh,” Keith suddenly begins again, hesitant. “I just want to say that I still love you. There’s nothing past tense about my feelings for you.”

Eyes widening in happy surprise, a dopey grin suddenly eats up Lance’s entire face. “Good ‘cause I still love you.”

The empty air between them disappears.

Lips starving for a taste of renewed, genuine love, their kiss marks a new beginning in space and far away from the painful memories on Earth. Keith’s hands tangle with Lance’s short hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Lance smiles into Keith’s skin as his arms wrap tight around his body with a promise to never let go. 

Out here, surrounded by all the stars in the universe, it’s just as magical as being on the Garrison rooftop. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Lance’s arms, Keith finally falls asleep.   
> \---  
> I got a new computer today after 5 years and it's weird, but I'm excited to write a bunch of new stories on it--(next up will probably be a Halloween fic featuring werewolf Lance.)
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos:)


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